Almost Human

The night wound down, and everyone started packing up their stuff, gathering scattered notes, wires, and laptops. The tension that had simmered throughout the evening still lingered, though no one had openly addressed it. I walked out into the hall, watching as Theo, Lain, and Gemma made quick work of their goodbyes.

“See you tomorrow!” Gemma called over her shoulder, barely hiding the smirk playing at her lips as she practically darted away.

Lain gave me a small, knowing smile. “Good luck,” she whispered before following Gemma down the hall.

Theo lagged a bit behind, throwing me a sympathetic glance before saying, “Text me if you need anything,” with an exaggerated wink before he too disappeared.

I glared after their retreating forms, muttering under my breath, “Cowards.”

As the sound of their footsteps faded down the stairwell, I realized I was alone in the hallway with Brighton. He stood there with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his eyes cast down to the floor for a beat before he cleared his throat. The silence was loud, the hallway feeling narrower by the second.

“Hey, uh…” Brighton started, shifting his weight. “I didn’t mean to make things weird, you know? With the message.”

I sighed, my eyes still on the retreating backs of my traitorous friends. “No, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry for leaving you on read like that.”

He shrugged, offering a lopsided smile. “I figured you were just busy.”

I hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s not that. It’s just… up until this semester, I didn’t really socialize. At all, actually. I lived a really isolated life for a long time. I’m still trying to figure out how to do this—this whole people thing. So when you asked about coffee, I just… froze a little.”

Brighton’s expression softened, and he nodded. “Yeah, I get that. I mean, not the isolation part exactly, but I can understand feeling unsure about new stuff.”

I smiled faintly. “It’s not that I don’t want to hang out. I just… don’t know. I’m not saying no to coffee, but I’m not saying yes either. Does that make sense?”

He gave a small chuckle, pulling his hands from his pockets. “Yeah, it does. I appreciate the honesty.”

For a moment, the tension seemed to ease, the weight of the earlier awkwardness lifting slightly. We stood there in comfortable silence for a few seconds before Brighton glanced back toward the stairwell. “Well, I won’t keep you. Just… let me know when you’ve figured things out, okay?”

I nodded, offering a genuine smile. “Yeah, I will.”

With one last nod, Brighton turned and headed down the stairs, leaving me standing in the hallway.

The moment I stepped back into the apartment, I felt the weight of everything I’d left hanging with Brighton hit me like a wall. Because even if Brighton had been clear in his interest, I still couldn’t untangle my own feelings about it—or about Ender.

Ender was waiting by the window when I walked in, his posture as calm and composed as ever, but there was something in the air that felt charged. His gaze tracked me as I continued to move toward the living room where he was.

“Hey,” I greeted, my voice catching a little. “So… that was awkward.”

He didn’t respond right away, just stood there, watching me with that quiet intensity that always made me feel like he was seeing more than I wanted him to. Finally, he spoke, “Did you respond to Brighton’s invitation? Just now in the hallway.”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck as I tried to figure out where to start. “I haven’t… figured out what to say yet.”

Ender tilted his head slightly, his voice calm but curious. “You seem conflicted.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, moving toward the couch and sinking down into the cushions. “I guess I am.”

He crossed the room to stand closer, still watching me with that unblinking attention that always made me feel exposed. “Brighton’s interest in you is logical. He offers qualities that most would consider attractive—confidence, experience, compatibility.”

I felt a small laugh bubble up, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “You sound like you’re writing a dating app profile for him.”

Ender paused, as if processing. “It is a factual analysis.”

“Right,” I muttered, frustration creeping into my voice. “Because facts are all you deal in, right? Just data and observations. Do you ever feel anything, Ender? About… any of this?”

His gaze didn’t waver, but there was something in his silence that made the room feel heavier. “My priority is your well-being, Seren. That has not changed.”

I stood, suddenly feeling restless. “That’s not what I asked! I don’t want to hear about my well-being or priorities—I want to know what you feel.”

The words hung between us, sharp and raw, and I wasn’t even sure where they were coming from. Maybe it was the conversation with Brighton, or maybe it was the tension I’d been carrying ever since I realized I was caught between two worlds—one where everything made sense on paper, and one where I felt things I didn’t understand.

Ender remained still, his voice quiet but steady. “I am designed to care for you, Seren. My feelings, as you understand them, are shaped by that purpose.”

I stared at him, the frustration building. “So that’s it? You’re just following some programming, and everything you do—every time you make me laugh, or… or protect me, or watch those stupid vampire shows with me—it’s just some directive?”

He didn’t answer, and the silence felt louder than any words. I took a shaky breath, my heart pounding as I tried to push past the anger rising in my chest. “I had a dream about us.”

That got his attention. His eyes flickered with something—maybe curiosity, maybe something else. “A dream?”

“Yeah,” I said, stepping closer, my voice barely above a whisper. “We were… together. Like, together together. We were kissing. You were… different. Not a machine. It felt real.”

Ender’s gaze remained steady, but his posture shifted ever so slightly, a tension I hadn’t noticed before settling into his frame. “And how did you feel in this dream?”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t know. Confused? Excited? It felt… right in the moment. But now, I’m just… scared that I’m asking something of you that isn’t fair.”

“You believe it is unfair to ask me to engage with you in a human way?” His tone was calm, but there was something in it that made me pause.

“Yes,” I said, feeling the weight of the truth behind the words. “Because you’re not human, Ender. You’re… you but I can’t pretend like that doesn’t mean something.”

He stepped closer, and the tension in the air felt almost suffocating. “If I could, I would ensure your happiness in any way necessary. But there are limitations to what I am capable of providing.”

I looked up at him, my heart pounding. “What if I want more than what you can give me? What if… what if I need something else?”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, and his voice was softer than I’d ever heard it. “Then I would understand.”

I stared at him, my breath catching in my throat, the frustration building again. I needed more—something real, something unfiltered. “Do you want me to go out with Brighton?”

There was a long, heavy pause, the silence stretching between us. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he processed the question. Then, finally, he answered, his voice low, but firm.

“No.”

The word hit me like a punch, sharper and more direct than anything he’d ever said before. I was excited. It was the answer I wanted…maybe. Conflicted, I decided to end the conversation before I got more confused.

“Thank you for your honesty,” I managed before I hurried out of the room into my bedroom closing the door behind me.